Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

Jiangnan University, Security Department, Duty Room. The digital clock on the wall struck two in the morning. Li Changfeng sat at his desk, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. He stared at the blank document on the computer screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard like someone with Parkinson's.

If I don't write it, tomorrow I'll be considered disobeying orders and will be exiled to Lop Nur to grow watermelons.

To tell the truth would be an insult to the leader's intelligence, and he would be banished to Lop Nur to feed mosquitoes.

"Knock knock".

There was a gentle knock on the office door.

Xiao Wang, a new clerk in the security department, peeked in, holding a disciplinary decision in his hand, his face showing the naivety and embarrassment of someone just starting out in the workplace.

"Team Leader Li... oh no, Consultant Li, that student Zhang who was grabbing lion's head meatballs in the second cafeteria at noon, has finished his 3,000-word self-criticism."

Xiao Wang handed over the report, saying, "He said he was blinded by the aroma of braised pork at the time, which constitutes a crime of passion, and he requested leniency from the organization."

Li Changfeng didn't answer or pay attention to him. He just stared intently at the screen, muttering to himself as if he had a stuck disc.

"A crime of passion... the scent... it was intoxicating..."

Xiao Wang was startled by Li Changfeng's demonic appearance and shrank back.

"Consultant? Are you alright? Is the air conditioning too cold, causing you to become delirious?"

Li Changfeng suddenly turned his head, his eyes gleaming green, like a hungry wolf.

"Xiao Wang, I have a question for you."

Xiao Wang jolted awake and instinctively stood at attention: "Please speak!"

"If you were in a godforsaken place, starving for three days and three nights, eating sand and the northwest wind every day, and suddenly someone waved a bag of freshly made, oily, and fragrant gluten in front of you, how would you feel?"

Xiao Wang didn't think much of it, but his answer was quite honest. He swallowed hard and replied frankly, "I would think of him as God, Jehovah, or the Kitchen God descended to earth."

"What if he doesn't give you any?" Li Changfeng pressed.

"Then I'll kill him and take it," Xiao Wang said decisively.

"What if he gives you food, but on the condition that you help him beat up Er Gouzi from the next village?"

Without a second thought, Xiao Wang's eyes flashed with ruthlessness: "Er Gouzi must die. Forget beating him up, I could shake the egg yolks from his family's ancestral graves to pieces!"

pass!

Li Changfeng felt a "boom" in his mind, and his Ren and Du meridians were instantly opened.

He snatched the medical report from Xiao Wang's hand, signed "discretionary handling" without even looking at it, and then grabbed Xiao Wang's arm as if grasping at a straw.

"Xiao Wang! Immediately! Right now! Go to the Faculty of Arts and get... no, get the two most talented writers here! We need the kind of people who can turn 'skipping class to play games' into 'immersive academic research on the social structure and interactive experience of the virtual world'!"

……

Fifteen minutes later, two sleepy-eyed, disheveled boys were brought to the office.

A man wearing thick-rimmed glasses, with a refined and cultured demeanor.

A tall, thin man with an arrogant expression.

They all seem to be seasoned veterans from the School of Humanities.

"Listen, you two."

Li Changfeng braced his hands on the table, leaning forward, instantly exuding the oppressive aura of someone who had been in a high position for many years.

"The task now is simple. I have a friend who fought a war in Africa. The process was outrageous, the methods were ruthless... unconventional. Now the higher-ups want me to write a high-sounding performance report. Your task is to translate these outrageous operations into strategic terminology that the leaders want to hear."

He tapped the white paper on the table.

"here we go."

"[Keyword 1: Three packs of spicy strips] [Result: Recruiting a warlord with a large army]"

The bespectacled boy adjusted his glasses, hesitated for three seconds, and tentatively said, "This...this can be interpreted as 'by precisely delivering high-value supplies with strong regional cultural symbols and addictive taste memories, rapidly dismantling the psychological defenses of the enemy's high command at extremely low cost, building cross-cultural emotional identification, and thus achieving asymmetric strategic subversion'?"

Li Changfeng's eyelids twitched.

"[Keyword 2: Iron ore powder plus truck batteries] [Result: Disabled three modern high-speed gunboats of the enemy]"

This time, the tall, thin man was visibly excited. He rubbed his hands together, paced back and forth as if organizing his thoughts, then suddenly slapped his thigh: "I've got it! We can say it like this: 'In a specific aquatic environment, utilizing fundamental principles of physics, a dimensional reduction attack with "rule-based" effectiveness was carried out against the enemy's modern electronic warfare platform, successfully verifying the absolute survival advantage of "returning to simplicity" mechanical structures in complex electromagnetic environments!' Advisor Li, what do you think of this interpretation?"

Li Changfeng's breathing became rapid.

"[Keyword 3: An iron pot mixed with sugar, fertilizer, and smelly socks] [Result: Created thick smoke, causing two groups of enemies to fight each other, resulting in mutual destruction]"

This time, the boy with glasses adjusted his lenses and spoke before his companion could, his tone calm and steady:

"This is a 'complex battlefield environmental interference'. Using smoke to obscure vision is a physical form of information blocking; using pungent odors to shake the enemy's mind is a precise psychological strike. By using both methods, we induce serious misjudgments and ultimately achieve the tactical goal of 'using someone else to do the dirty work'."

Talent!

This is the kind of talent the country truly needs! All those missile experts and tactical masters pale in comparison to this report!

Li Changfeng slammed his hand on the table and gave the final order: "Write! Write according to this line of thought! Write it beautifully! Write it well! Write it with style! I'll cover your supper tonight, all the braised pork meatballs from the second canteen!"

The two students' eyes lit up immediately.

At 5 a.m., a report of 8,000 words, rich in references and illustrations, and which analyzed everything from geopolitics to behavioral psychology, was sent to Xishan in Beijing via an encrypted line.

After sending the message, Li Changfeng slumped into his chair and lit his last cigarette.

Sending out this report will either get you a promotion or land you in jail.

Alternatively, the Xishan Command might have thought he was insane and sent him and the two students to a mental hospital for clinical research.

The judgment of fate has begun: success means working as a hostess in a club with young models; failure means growing melons in Lop Nur.